Hopeless
by Syncop8ed Rhythm
Summary: It was dark, in the small room he had been forced into. And there was so much pain. Shawn wasn't sure how long he had been missing, but he did know he wasn't going to be able to get out of this.  Not alive, at least.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This was meant to be an response to a challenge I found on the Psychfic website, but I think it turned into something completely different, and a bit darker than I thought it would. I'm a little nervous about posting this, but I'm sure you guys will tell me what you think about it. So, here it is...

* * *

It was so dark.

He heard a noise and flinched, curling in on himself even more.

There was so much pain.

The door was pushed open, illuminating a wide patch of the floor, and falling on his face. He winced at the light, barely noticing the pain when he was lifted from the floor.

When he was returned to the room, he was barely conscious. Was this the fifth day? Sixth? He'd lost track, especially since he hadn't seen daylight except for the times he was taken from the room.

He was hungry. And he was sorry to say that a pineapple smoothie simply wouldn't be enough this time. Though that did sound good. Really good.

He was drifting. He had been doing that a lot lately. It was very hard to keep track of time, of himself, in this dark hole.

He wasn't making it out of here. Not alive.

He had nothing up his sleeve: no phone, no Swiss Army knife, no witty comments. Well, correction, he had witty comments; he just couldn't say them out loud. He'd lost his voice somewhere between… ahh…overuse and a few bouts of near strangulation.

…

Where was he again? Oh yes, no tricks to pull. His friends had no idea where he was. He was alone, stuck in this dark room until Cort was finished with him, or the door magically unlocked…As long as he was on _that _track, a magic carpet to carry him out of this dark cave ala Aladdin would be wonderful, with a magic genie to fulfill his wishes. Though technically this wasn't a cave. _No Shawn, it's nowhere close to being a cave. Caves are outside. You're inside. _He could almost see Gus rolling his eyes.

He really shouldn't have come searching on his own, but Gus had been heading to a conference, his father had been fishing, and Lassie and Jules were following their own leads. But seriously, this guy was selling drugs! And he was targeting kids! There had actually been two deaths already, and everyone wanted to catch this guy, this Cort Holland. Shawn had been careful, he had parked a good distance away from the factory that he thought Cort had taken up shop in, had trekked up to one of the windows after making sure there were no guards looking his direction, and gotten several mental snapshots to use in his next "vision." Too bad he totally missed the two guards coming up behind him; but in his defense, those guards were supposed to be on the other side of the building for the next five minutes, before they came back to his side.

Stupid hunch. Well, it was a great hunch, but it was stupidity on his part for not telling anyone where he was going. _If you'd become a cop, you would have had back-up._ Shawn gave a soft snort as he imagined his father crossing his arms as he said that statement. _Maybe you were right, Dad._

He heard a noise at the door and sighed wearily. Apparently Cort had had a bad day, and when Cort had a bad day, Shawn's day got even worse. He'd already seen the guy once today, did he really have to go back out?

He frowned; actually, he heard a lot of noise outside his door. Shouting, swearing…Was there a fight going on?

The door swung open to reveal two figures. One of them swore softly and walked a little further into the room. Shawn just remained lying on the floor, too tired to lift his head, which made it difficult to see who was walking towards him. Not until the man stooped in front of him, did Shawn finally see who it was. He blinked, the only sign of surprise he was able to muster at the moment. Huh. Officer Kellan. Older cop, family man. Shawn had always liked him.

"Sir? Are you okay?"

The other officer found a light switch outside of the room and flipped it on. Shawn blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted. Really? Did he just call him that? Did Shawn look like a sir? And for that matter, did he _look _like he was okay? A slight smile crossed his face and the officer jerked in surprise as he bent down to get even closer to Shawn.

"HOLY-! Call an ambulance! Now! It's Spencer!"

He heard footsteps running closer and shrunk into himself even more, afraid to see who would come next.

"Sweet Justice…" Lassiter said quietly as he entered the room.

Another voice, this one hesitant, afraid to even hope. "Is it-?"

It was the voice of an angel; one that Shawn had prayed he would get to hear another time, one that Shawn had been afraid to even replay in his mind because it hurt even worse than the physical pain just to imagine it. Jules.

She stepped further into the room at Lassiter's confirmation, both of them replacing Officer Kellan, so that they kneeled right in front of Shawn. Shawn's gaze took in Lassiter's worry and surprise, and Jules' shock, his gaze lingering on her eyes, which were filling with tears. But she was tough, and his Jules didn't let any tears fall.

He closed his eyes, refusing to look at them again, ignoring their pleas for him to respond.

This was a hallucination. Nothing more, nothing less. Shawn had accepted his fate, little that he liked it; but he knew he was not escaping this place.

After a few days of being here, it had been so easy to imagine Gus' voice, his father's, and Lassiter and Jules' voices, but he refused to do so for long. Shawn knew it was a very thin line to tread, to fantasize that his friends were near, to having a hallucination. Shawn didn't want that; he needed to keep his mind intact. His body was already broken, but his mind was not.

Not until now, that is.

"Shawn, please, open your eyes."

Because this couldn't be real.

"Spencer, you need to answer us."

Shawn almost snorted. Fat chance of that happening anytime soon. However, if this was a hallucination, then maybe the end was in sight. And if Shawn opened his eyes, his last moments could be with his friends.

He opened his eyes, vaguely wondering when Gus and his father would pop up.

"Shawn…" Jules lifted her hand to touch him and Shawn flinched.

Both detectives stiffened, but Shawn didn't care. _Don't touch me. Don't. When you do, and I don't feel you, the hallucination breaks. I'll be alone again. _

"Spencer, we're not going to hurt you." Lassiter spoke slowly and softly and Shawn rolled his eyes at the man before returning his gaze to Juliet. To his angel. Strange that Gus hadn't shown up yet.

Lassiter sighed, relaxing slightly. "He's going to be fine," he muttered, a small smile crossing his face for a second.

Maybe this wasn't a hallucination. Could it be real? He took a breath, steeling himself for what he had to do. His hand lifted, heading towards Juliet's face. _Don't…move, _he pleaded silently; and miraculously, she understood. He ignored the way his hand shook; he didn't even notice it anymore. He hesitated, his hand hovering over her cheek, his gaze focused solely on that point. He would know in the next second.

He closed the distance. And his hand met her warm face. A small smile crossed his face, actually staying there. He could feel her. This was real, _she _was real. He opened his hand, so that his palm was touching her face, a full smile stretching his cheeks for the first time since he had been kidnapped. He turned his gaze from her cheek to her eyes, still smiling.

Lassiter cleared his throat and stood up, turning away from them rather quickly. And Jules, she was smiling too, although her smile was tinged with sadness. She nestled her face into his hand, not tearing her gaze from Shawn's when Lassiter returned, warning them the paramedics were there.

His smile fell, though, when the paramedics pushed their way between them. They were blocking his view of Jules, making him lose contact with her, and he didn't like it. They were checking him, pressing on areas that had long since been bruised and broken. His back arched in pain, his mouth stretched wide in a silent scream at the agony that their hands had increased.

Lassiter was yelling, threatening to shoot them if they weren't careful. Jules was pleading with them to stop, her voice breaking in distress. And then, the paramedics finished transferring him to a stretcher, and the agony decreased slightly. Shawn was looking for her; she had to be nearby still, somewhere. His hand was searching through the crowd of bodies, reaching…until finally she grasped it, and she reappeared. Shawn smiled again. _Hello, Jules._

The paramedics were asking questions, and Lassiter was doing his best to answer them, but it wasn't enough. "Shawn? I need you to do me a favor." _Anything, Jules. You know that. _ He nodded slowly, answering her plea.

"I need you to answer some of their questions. They need to know how to treat you…" She dropped off as Shawn's face turned sorrowful. _Ah Jules, you ask the one thing I cannot give. I wish I could._

Shawn pointed to his throat and shook his head. One of the paramedics moved closer, and so did Jules. He wished she hadn't, especially when he saw how much it upset her. He didn't know for sure what they saw, but could imagine it well enough. Bruises in the shape of fingers, rope burns…He had especially despised those sessions.

"What is it?" Lassiter asked, and Jules turned to explain. The explanation was too soft for Shawn to hear, but he heard Lassiter's reaction to it quite well.

"I am going to SHOOT them! No McNab, let me go!"

Shawn smirked. _Good ole Lassie._

"Okay, we're moving him," One of the paramedics said, and Shawn was being wheeled away. Out of the room. Past the area where Shawn had been tortured. Outside of the factory. Shawn was looking at the sky, awed. He was outside, and it was beautiful. He felt another huge smile stretch his lips and he turned his head, his gaze colliding with Jules'. _Isn't it incredible? _Her face softened into a smile when she saw his joy.

They were separated as Shawn was lifted into the back of the ambulance and this time Shawn wasn't as worried. She would join him as soon as they let her. He could still see her clearly; everything was fine. He felt a surge of irritation when the paramedics cut off his shirt. He had struggled back into the shirt the other day, hoping it would keep out the chill and provide a layer between the dirty floor and his wounds. It had taken a lot of effort to get it back on, and Shawn didn't appreciate them taking it off now. His smile dropped when he saw Lassiter and Jules staring at him, new horror crossing their face. _What?_ His gaze dropped and he took in the bruises, the knife slashes, the burn marks…Ahh, now he understood. Well, at least they hadn't seen his- "Are those whip marks on his back?"

Shawn rolled his eyes. Had this paramedic never heard the term Doctor-Patient Confidentiality? _Seriously, dude? _ He looked back at Jules, who was now grasping the arm of a pale-looking Lassiter for support. _It's okay, Jules. It's over now. Don't worry. _He held his hand out to her, beckoning for her to come to him. He saw her take a deep breath before she climbed into the ambulance and grasped his hand. His brow furrowed as he saw her lose the battle. One tear fell from her eyes, making its slow trek down her cheek. Shawn reached his hand to cup her face, using his thumb to wipe away any trace the small tear left. His mission complete, he smiled.

Then he closed his eyes, as his hand fell from her face, and he gave in to the darkness that just wouldn't let him escape.

* * *

AN: So this is either a one-shot that got out of hand (_much _longer than I had intended) or the start of a hurt/comfort story. I haven't decided yet. Please, let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Wow! Thanks for the awesome reviews! You guys are amazing! And...you talked me into it. This is Juliet's POV of finding Shawn (had to do it), but the next few chapters will be from Henry and Shawn's POV.

* * *

He wouldn't stop smiling at her.

He was in pain she couldn't even begin to imagine, had gone through horrors that she didn't even want to know about, and he was smiling at her.

She thought he was dead. So did Lassiter. He had just been gone for too long for them to hold out hope.

Fourteen days. He had been missing for two weeks. Two weeks, and they had had no idea where to look for him. They never thought they would find him in that factory. But they had. And he wouldn't stop smiling that bright smile.

She had been shocked, when she entered the room. This figure looked nothing like Shawn. He was too pale, too thin, too bruised. If she hadn't seen his eyes, she might not have been sure it was him.

But then he had closed his eyes and refused to look at them again.

She had thought he was slipping away from them, and she couldn't begin to describe the panic that had coursed through her body at the thought that they hadn't gotten to him in time. That he had been able to hold on just long enough to see his rescuers, but not be rescued.

She underestimated him. He was much stronger than she thought.

His face had shown little emotion up to that point. His eyes weren't sparkling or mischievous, his lips weren't smiling. He was just…existing. But she had seen a new resolve in him, grim and intense, when he reopened his eyes. She was so relieved that he had responded that she had reached out to touch him, not even thinking it would bother him. Why hadn't she realized that all of the hands that had reached out for him in the last two weeks had done so to hurt him? That a hand moving towards him now meant intense pain, not comfort?

But then, she truly wondered if that was why he had flinched, after seeing his reaction to Lassiter's comment. His face showed the first hint of a spark, when he had rolled his eyes. Lassiter was relieved and so was Juliet. It was a start.

Her heart stopped when he slowly reached his hand to her face, the trembling causing a stab of sorrow in her. She froze, letting him be the one to decide when to close the distance. Her heart started once more, when she saw a small smile cross his face. And then, when he burst into a full smile, Juliet was hard-pressed to keep the tears in check. She knew his reaction had gotten to Lassiter, as well. Because Shawn was smiling like every wish of his had come true, like this was the best day of his life…like nothing was wrong with him.

All too quickly, the paramedics were shoving their way between them, and Juliet was covering her mouth in horror. She was pleading with them to be careful, begging them to be, her words mixing with Lassiter's, because Shawn was in agony. She had never seen his face twist like that, nor did she ever want to again. Finally, the paramedics removed their hands and his face relaxed slightly into worry. His hand was reaching and Juliet knew exactly what he was asking. She fit her hand in his. And he smiled again, all traces of the previous agony disappearing. _Oh, Shawn. _

She knew the paramedics were asking questions that Lassiter was trying to answer, but it wasn't enough. "Shawn? I need you to do me a favor." His piercing green eyes met hers as he nodded, and Juliet continued. "I need you to answer some of their questions. They need to know how to treat you…" She stopped when she identified his expression. Sorrow? He shook his head, pointing to his throat. When she saw it, anger rushed through her swiftly; it was hard for her to control herself when she told Lassiter what was wrong. Lassiter couldn't control himself. It really was a good thing that Buzz was there.

Returning her attention to Shawn, she saw him smirk in amusement.

They were moving outside; and watching him, she swore he was trying to talk to her. He was so excited to see the sky that Juliet couldn't help but enjoy his enthusiasm. He may not be able to speak because of that…monster, but he was still telling them that he would be okay. And Juliet was starting to believe that maybe he would be.

Until she saw him in the ambulance after the paramedic cut off his shirt; until she heard the paramedic's incredulous comment.

And then Shawn rolled his eyes at the man and held out his hand to Juliet. She couldn't do it. She couldn't climb in there and hold it together. She was perilously close to breaking down. But Shawn needed her, and after Lassiter squeezed her hand, Juliet took a deep breath and climbed in. She grabbed Shawn's hand, not even noticing the tear that had escaped. But Shawn did. He reached up and wiped it away.

And he smiled.

She grabbed his hand as it fell, noticing that he had passed out. She clasped it tightly in both of her hands and rested her forehead against it, unable to prevent the next tears that landed on his hand.

* * *

AN: Let me know what you thought guys! Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thanks for the awesome reviews! You guys are fantastic! Oh, and I know someone (Queen of Cliffhangers) asked for a Gus or Lassiter chapter; not sure if I can swing it, but I'll give it my very best effort. I love hearing what you guys think!

* * *

They had found his son. And he was alive.

Henry slammed through the doors of the hospital and straight to the nurse behind the desk. "Shawn Spencer?" He forced the words out, fear making his throat tight.

The nurse took her time checking the computer before replying, "I'm sorry, sir; there's no one here with that name."

"What? Check-" He cut himself off when he heard an ambulance come screeching to a stop. He spun around, straining to see the figure being pulled out of the ambulance. He took a shaky step forward when he saw Detective O'Hara jump out behind the stretcher.

They were wheeling the stretcher closer and closer and Henry finally got a glimpse of his son. He grabbed the counter for support, his legs collapsing under him. _No, no please. _This still, broken figure on the gurney was not his son. How could it be? This was not…it couldn't…

"Mr. Spencer?"

Henry ignored the young detective, following the gurney like he was being pulled by an invisible string. _My son…_

One of the nurses pulled away and put her hand up, stopping Henry in his tracks. "Sir, you'll have to wait here. We'll send the doctor out as soon as we finish checking him out."

She turned away and the door closed in his face.

"Mr. Spencer?"

This time, Henry turned to look at her. He had opened his mouth to speak, but no words were able to break free from his horror. She understood though, filling him in on where they had found him.

"He was awake."

She said it so simply, so calmly that Henry almost missed it. His gaze snapped back from the doors that were keeping him away from his son, landing on her face. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that both Detective Lassiter and Gus had appeared sometime during her explanation.

He had been awake? "What? How-Was he okay? Did he say anything?" Inane questions. He knew the answer to one of them. How could his son be okay when he looked like that? But he still had to ask, still had to hope that some part of his son had not been broken.

At this, she faltered, her gaze sliding to Lassiter. Lassiter continued speaking for her, "His throat was injured; he wasn't able to say anything…but he was still very much himself."

Henry moved to sit in a chair, elbows resting against his knees, as he leaned forward. He was aware that he was taking deep breaths, doing everything he could to push back the overwhelming emotions that were flooding his system. This was only part of the story. The doctor would be out to tell him the rest of it soon.

He wasn't sure how much more he could take of this. He had feared that his son was dead, but refused to believe it. He wasn't sure why he hadn't prepared himself for finding him seriously injured. Maybe it was because Shawn had always been able to talk his way out of anything. Maybe it was as simple as not being able to imagine someone deliberately hurting him.

But someone had.

He wasn't sure how long he waited. It could have been minutes; it could have been hours. All Henry knew was that he couldn't stop thinking about how badly his son was hurt. Finally, he heard someone ask, "Mr. Spencer?"

Henry's head snapped up as he heard an unfamiliar voice call his name. He stood up quickly when he saw a doctor striding towards him.

…

Shawn had been dreaming. He remembered dreaming about the sky, remembered feeling like he was free. He had seen Jules. He had forgotten how beautiful she was. Strange, how dreaming about her didn't hurt him as much as he thought it would.

"Shawn?"

His eyes snapped open, landing almost immediately on his father.

"Hey there, kiddo."

_Dad? _Shawn frowned; what was going on? He thought he had been dreaming. Was he really free?

One way to find out, and boy, was that going to be awkward. He and his father had never been touchy-feely, but Shawn would have difficulty believing he was free, believing this was real, unless he actually _felt _it. He lifted his hand from the bed, and slowly beckoned his father to come closer. Henry did so, leaning over his son further. Shawn stretched his hand out and-

"Ow! What the heck was that for, Shawn?" Henry growled, rubbing his eye and glaring at his son.

Shawn pressed his lips together, trying to hide his mirth. His hands were still shaking, and he had momentarily lost control of the one near his father's face. _I didn't mean to poke you in the eye, Dad. Honest. _Shawn lifted his hand once more to sign an answer. His father watched his hand form the letters, his glare softening when he understood the message. _**Real**_**.**

"Yeah, son. This is real. You're safe."

Shawn felt his face relax into a smile. _Well, okay then._

His father blew out a sigh. "You had me worried. No one knew where you were or where to start looking." His father shook his head, frustrated. "You should have told someone where you were going. What were you thinking, Shawn?"

Shawn couldn't stop the smile from growing as his father started to lecture him, using the same words Shawn had imagined he would use. Henry paused when he caught his expression.

"Are you-are you enjoying this?" Henry asked, confused.

Shawn held up his hand, his index finger and thumb about an inch apart. _A little bit. _He saw his father shake his head in disbelief, so Shawn's hand began forming an explanation. _**Didn't think I would hear you lecture me again.**_He huffed out a silent laugh and continued. _**Don't get used to it.**_

He saw his father swallow and blink a few times, before gently patting his hand. "I won't, kiddo...I'll make sure you're sick and tired of my lectures by the end of the week."

* * *

AN: Oh, and Shawn's not out of the woods quite yet...


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Thanks again for the amazing reviews! I've got the story all written out; it'll be between Shawn and Henry's perspectives. I'm still trying to see if I can squeeze out an epilogue, maybe from Gus' perspective, but I'm not sure yet. And if anyone's wondering, yes, I always keep your guys' comments in mind. If you suggest or ask for something, I do consider it, and if it's possible, incorporate it into the story. Oh, I know someone asked...let's say Shawn's using a mixture of signing words and letters.

* * *

It had been four weeks since Shawn had been found. Three very long weeks of Shawn doing his very best to get out of the hospital, despite the fact he couldn't move by himself, and one week of Shawn doing his very best to leave his father's house. Henry crossed his arms as he saw Shawn coming into his kitchen. Most of the bruises were gone, the cuts and the stripes across his back were healing well. He would always have scars, but that wasn't what Henry was worried about.

In the four weeks that Shawn had been free, he had yet to make a sound. At all. There had been no words, no laughter, no hoarse attempts at any sound whatsoever. Henry knew his son had been fighting nightmares, since he checked on him several times during the night. Henry knew the dreams were intense, but Shawn had never made a noise.

There was no medical reason for this. The bruising and swelling in that area had been gone since Shawn was released from the hospital.

"What do you want for dinner?"

Shawn tilted his head and started to sign. Henry took a few steps until he was right in front of him, putting his hand over Shawn's and stopping his movements.

"No Shawn, I need you tell me. Out loud."

He saw Shawn's eyes widen as he shook his head. He tried to pull away, but Henry put his hands on his shoulders to stop him. "It's okay, Shawn. Go ahead, try to say something."

Shawn paled, and Henry saw his hands start to shake. Shawn's mouth opened and closed, opened and closed. No sound. Shawn shook his head vehemently, pulling away from him roughly, anger and fear obvious in his actions. Shawn turned away from him, putting both hands on the counter for support, and Henry gripped his shoulder. "It's okay, Shawn. You're fine. You're fine," he soothed. He felt Shawn's shoulders tremble slightly and felt anger boil up. Cort Holland was very lucky he was in jail.

He felt Shawn regain control of himself and pulled away, not surprised when Shawn left the house without glancing back at him. Shawn was obviously upset that Henry had tried to force the issue; which in turn, triggered a memory he was sure Shawn would have preferred remain buried. But Shawn needed to face this. His healing wouldn't be complete until he did.

…

Shawn couldn't get his hands to stop shaking. He squeezed them into fists and then spread them out, watching numbly as they continued to tremble. _"Go ahead, psychic; try and say something now." The rope was tight, too tight; he was choking! Stop, please… "What's the matter? Nothing sarcastic to say now?" Black spots were dancing around the corners of his eyes as the rope was pulled tighter. No! No… Cort's laughter seemed to echo as the darkness swallowed Shawn._

It hadn't taken Cort long to become fed up with Shawn's commentary. Shawn knew the man wasn't completely sane, not after the things he had been doing to him, but one time…One time he had snapped completely after Shawn had spouted off another comment. And then…

Shawn pressed his hands to his eyes, forcing away the memory, the fear. He looked across the ocean, watched as the waves got closer and closer to where he was sitting on the beach. He tried to slow the rhythm of his breathing, tried to match it with the waves as they crashed in and out. This had become one of his safe havens ever since getting out of the hospital. For two weeks, his world had been contained to two rooms. One that Shawn could only associate with pain, the other a pitch-black prison. He could count the glimpses of sunlight that he had seen on one hand.

Now…now Shawn could see the sky. He could see the ocean, see where it melted into the distance. He tilted his face to catch the warmth from the sun, the breeze flowing across his face as he breathed in deeply. This was freedom.

But Shawn wasn't really free.

When his father had tried to get him to say something, he was right back in that factory, Cort laughing at Shawn's futile struggles. He could feel the rope cutting off his air, feel that sick feeling when he realized there was no escape. Shawn shoved his fingers through his hair, gripping his head in frustration.

"_Go ahead, psychic. Try to say something now."_

* * *

AN: Does my comment that he's not out of the woods make sense now? :)


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Thanks for the reviews! I put up two chapters today, because I thought you guys might hate me if I just posted the short chapter. :)

* * *

Shawn strode through the doors of the police department, smiling and waving to a few of the officers.

"Mr. Spencer, what are you doing here?"

The chief eyed him, lifting an eyebrow as she waited for an explanation. _Oops. Busted. _He lifted his eyebrows, shrugging.

"I believe I told you to take a few more weeks off before coming in for a new case, didn't I?"

He gave her his best pleading face, his lips forming the smallest of pouts. She smiled, but refused to budge. "I'm sorry, Mr. Spencer. You need to take a little more time off. We will be more than glad to have you back as soon as you are ready." She patted his arm as she walked away.

Disappointed, Shawn glanced around the station, his gaze snagging on Lassiter. He felt his brow furrow as he watched Lassiter's jerky movements as he worked at his desk. The detective was angry. Shawn's gaze moved to Juliet and he found himself moving towards her without any conscious thought. Her mouth was pulled down into a frown, her shoulders slumped in weariness.

She looked up as he got closer, a small smile flitting across her beautiful face before it settled back into its former expression.

"Hi Shawn," she said quietly.

_What's wrong, Jules?_

"How are you feeling?"

He shook his head, touching her arm. _No Jules, tell me what's wrong._

She sighed. "We had a hit-and-run we were investigating. It was just a kid, a little girl. She's in the hospital…"

She trailed off and Shawn understood. _Jules, I'm so sorry. _Shawn felt his emotions flashing across his face, as he tried to find a way to offer her comfort, to apologize. This was ridiculous; he needed to tell her what he felt. His expressions were twisted, confused, and he knew she would never understand what he was trying to say. He opened his mouth, closing his eyes in frustration when he choked, the rope back around his neck again.

"Shawn, are you okay?"

He swore to himself. He was trying to offer _her _comfort, not the other way around. He couldn't take it anymore. He opened his eyes, taking in her concern. He touched her cheek, deliberately forcing part of his mouth into a half smile, hoping it was enough to ease some of her worry. He gave her skin a soft caress with his thumb before pulling back.

_Goodbye, Jules._

And with that, he turned around and left the station.


	6. Chapter 6

There it was. The location of all his nightmares. Shawn sat on his bike, helmet in his hands as he studied the factory. Yellow crime scene tape stretched across the door, warning all who passed by not to enter.

He was going to ignore that warning.

He had to, if he wanted to get past what had happened to him. He swung his leg over the seat to stand, and put the helmet down. He took a step forward, then another one, not pausing until he reached the door. Stretching one hand out, he pushed the door open slowly, taking an unconscious step back when he saw the darkness that waited for him.

He took a deep breath, fortifying his strength. He could do this. He ducked under the tape, walking slowly down the hallway. He froze when he reached the large room that he had been tortured in, his hands immediately beginning to shake. Part of him wanted to run, to just get out of the factory, jump on his bike, and never look back. The other part acknowledged the necessity of this visit. He forced himself to enter the room, his wide gaze taking in every corner, every inch of the room. He was several steps in when the memories broke past his barriers, overwhelming him with their intensity. He shuddered as each memory assaulted him, leaving him with the feeling that it was all happening again. His shoulders slumped and he fell to one knee, head bowed under the crushing weight of pain and terror.

"_You'll wish you never decided to investigate us, Spencer." _Shawn flinched, as he remembered the crack of the whip against his back, the pain no longer feeling like a memory. He gripped his head, jaw clenched, as he relived each pain-filled moment. _It hurts, so much._

He should never have come here.

"_You didn't tell them where you were going, did you, Psychic? Otherwise, they would have been here already." Cort laughed, "Oh, Spencer. They'll never find you. You're mine."_ _No, no please…_

This was a mistake.

He pushed against the floor with his hands, too weak to stand without the support. He needed to leave, now. Instantly, Juliet's face came to mind, her weariness over a difficult case, her concern for Shawn when her failed to comfort her. She had needed him, and he had let her down.

_You will not win. _Shawn opened his mouth to say the words aloud, gasping as the rope returned. _"Go ahead, Psychic. Try to say something…" _

_You will not win. You will not win. You will not win. _

"_You're mine, Spencer. You'll never escape, never be found. They'll never hear from you again." _

_You will not win. You will not win. _Shawn tried to speak again, barely noticing how close he was to hyperventilating. Huge breath in and out, in and out. _You will not win. You will not win. _The rope was tight, tighter, too tight! He couldn't breathe, he couldn't! _No, no! You will not win! _

_Cort was laughing when he heard Shawn's rasp, the closest thing to a scream he could produce. "Such a shame. Looks like our psychic won't be able to tell us any more entertaining stories." _

_No! You will not win. You will not win! _

"You will not win!"

Shawn froze when he heard the whisper-soft words come from his mouth. His chest was heaving with exertion, body shaking with fatigue. He opened his mouth again to say the words, half expecting to feel his throat close once again. "You will not win."

The words came out stronger this time and Shawn felt a smile break through. He leaned against the wall, pushing himself to his feet as success gave him a new energy. "You will not win."

His gaze swept the room, as he tested himself, tested the memories. They were still there, he knew, but not so bad as to incapacitate him once more. The nightmares wouldn't just stop, but Shawn had just overcome a huge hurdle. He pushed away from the wall and walked out the door. He paused just long enough to look over his shoulder, a smirk forming on his face as he said, "You did not win."

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AN: So, I might just leave the story here. There's something about that scene, about Shawn leaving the building in triumph, that I like...but I also have an idea teasing my mind for a lighter epilogue...Let me know what you guys think.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Consider this chapter dedicated to each person who read and enjoyed this story, especially those who reviewed! Thanks guys!

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Lassiter returned to his desk, rolling his eyes after spying Shawn and Gus standing in a group of police officers. It was never good when Spencer couldn't stop glancing at Lassiter like he was doing now. He cast a critical eye across his desk, but didn't see anything out of place. What had Spencer done now? He touched his chair before sitting down, just checking to see if it was stable or would fall over when he sat down. Nope, nothing wrong there.

He reached out a hand to type in his password, thinking he might just welcome any prank the faux-psychic sent his way. It would be a return to normalcy. He typed in one letter, and then went to type in the next, his head snapping down to look at his hand when his finger refused to move.

Well, it was about time.

"Spencer!"

Shawn took a step away from the group, smiling widely at Lassiter.

"Superglue on the keyboard? Really? I think you're losing your touch."

Shawn shrugged, "What can I say? I didn't have much time to plan a new joke."

Lassiter felt his mouth open slightly in shock, heard the police officers suddenly grow quiet, and saw O'Hara clap her hand over her mouth. Lassiter let a small smile cross his face. _Way to go, Spencer._ He saw Shawn wink at O'Hara and fist-bump a shocked best friend before returning his attention to him.

"You know I can call this vandalism, right? I can now put your butt in jail."

Spencer smirked, "Yeah, but your hands are a little busy on the keyboard right now, aren't they? Don't you need those to work your handcuffs?"

Lassiter smiled and held up his left hand, suppressing a laugh when he saw Spencer's eyes widen in surprise. The muttered "Oh crap!" was easily heard, even though Lassiter was across the room from him. Lassiter pulled hard, holding up his newly-liberated right hand and studying it. "Oh look, the key popped off. Looks like I won't have any trouble with the handcuffs." He met Spencer's gaze and began walking towards him.

"Jules! Save me!"

Lassiter saw his partner start to laugh. "Sorry Shawn, I think you're on your own this time!"

Shawn darted behind Gus after she said that, "Gus! Buddy! Cover me!"

"You must be out of your damn mind! He's got a gun!"

"Are you kidding me?" At this, Spencer turned around, running straight for the exit as Lassiter swallowed another grin and ran after him.

…

He was on the doorstep, hand poised to open the door, when he paused. He took a deep breath, realizing this shouldn't be so hard. He pushed open the door and walked through the house, looking for his father. He walked into the kitchen, his eyes falling on his father just as Henry caught sight of him. Shawn moved slowly to stand in front of his father and froze. This was much harder than he thought it would be. What he had done at the police station was lighter; it was a promise to them that he was healed, that he was back. But here, with his father…This was different. Jules, Lassiter, Gus…all of them were glad he had found his voice again. To them, he was whole.

They weren't the ones who had to deal with the side-effects of regaining his speech…Of the nightmares finally breaking free from the silent confines of his mind. His father would.

"Hey…Dad."

Henry blinked in surprise, a small smile crossing his face. "Kid."

There was a small hint of pride in his voice that Shawn didn't miss, but that didn't erase the troubled expression that he knew crossed his face as he looked away.

"It's okay, Shawn. We'll take it one step at a time."

Shawn met his father's eyes, studying him. He noted the concern, the understanding, and gave a slow nod.

No other words were needed.

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AN: Not as light of an epilogue as I thought it would be...I'm kind of sad to see this story end, but it lasted a lot longer than I thought it would. I've got another story that I'm working on, and I'll try to get that posted soon. Thanks again for the wonderful support you guys gave me! Care to tell me what you thought of this last chapter?


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